


snapshots

by jjaeniel



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Gang AU, M/M, jihoon is patient and kind, the rest of the gang? not so much, woojin is really dense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 12:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15461388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjaeniel/pseuds/jjaeniel
Summary: in which woojin slowly realizes how much jihoon means to him





	snapshots

**Author's Note:**

> this started out as a small 200 word thing and then turned into... 6.6k... when will i stop

_march 9, 2017 ; 5:24 am_

the twirl of a gun around his index finger. all the memories of one being pressed to the back of his head. his temple. his back. his side, his chest. one pointed at his foot, shoulder, thigh-

woojin wouldn’t say he's been through a lot. woojin would say he's been through what’s necessary. would he still be a good assassin, good at being stealthy, good at managing drugs, money, weapons, if he hadn’t been through all of that? no. 

does that mean he doesn’t still wake up from nightmares, images playing over and over in his head, the person tied up being replaced with people he loves? still no. 

on those nights, woojin cleans. cleans his room, jihoon’s room (the boy sleeps like a rock, he wouldn't know what was going on even if a hurricane was raging outside.), cleans everyone in the apartment’s guns. he cleans and cleans until the sun comes up, until jisung wakes up and sees his bloodshot eyes, the bags underneath them, the downright exhaustion in his posture. 

its then, with a little coaxing from jisung himself, that he finally goes back to bed. but never to his own room, no, but rather to jihoon’s. 

jihoon might sleep like a rock, but he somehow always wakes up when woojin joins him. 

“bad night?” jihoon mumbles sleepily, moving over so woojin has more room, still draping an arm around his waist regardless. jihoon likes to know he’s close when they sleep. woojin doesn’t mind. they all have their little quirks.

ignoring the extra space given to him, woojin presses his face into the crook of jihoon’s neck. sighing, he lets out a soft _”it was daniel hyung, this time,”_ slipping one of his legs between jihoon’s thighs. 

humming and rubbing circles into the small of woojin’s back with his fingertips, jihoon offers a solution, like he always does. 

“i could go check on him, if you want. let you know he's safe ‘n sleeping well. maybe it’ll help,” jihoon says, jaw cracking when he yawns. “you could even come, if you want to see for yourself.”

staying quiet for a minute, woojin thinks over his options, like he always does. agree and be vulnerable, admit he cares about everyone more than he lets on (jihoon already knows this, but suspecting it and confirming it are two different things), admit he needs silly things like this to feel safe. he could also refuse, go back to sleep wrapped up in jihoon’s arms and pretend he’s fine like he always does, pretend like nothing happened when he woke up later. 

for some reason, this time he chooses the former.

“we could… we could go check,” woojin says softly, not looking up from the crook of jihoon’s neck. he feels, uncomfortable? scared of being judged? but that’s silly- this is _jihoon_. the only person who doesn’t judge him. 

“you need to get off of me to do that, woojin,” jihoon says, something happy in his voice. woojin tries not to think about why that could be. 

clearing his throat awkwardly and untangling himself from jihoon, woojin stands up. he’s nervous for some reason, deciding to chalk it up to his dream rather than anything having to do with jihoon. he doesn’t get _nervous_ around jihoon. they’re best friends. 

letting jihoon lead him by the hand across the hall (why is this necessary? woojin wants to know too), woojin takes a deep breath. he’s totally not terrified. not one bit. 

it's only when jihoon reaches for the handle that woojin stops him with the hand not currently being held by jihoon’s own, finally looking into jihoon’s eyes for the first time in a while. 

“i just need- i,” woojin starts, cutting himself off. what _does_ he need?

“he’s gonna be fine, wooj,” jihoon says softly, frowning slightly. the dream must’ve been _really_ bad if woojin’s acting this jumpy and anxious. “i bet you he’s got the blankets all kicked down to the edge of the bed like always, snoring obnoxiously. he’ll be _fine_.”

“okay,” woojin practically whispers, letting go of jihoon’s left hand, still firmly holding his right. he doesn’t breathe at all in the time it takes jihoon to turn the knob and push open the door. 

what he sees has him letting out the biggest sigh of relief he can muster. it’s just as jihoon said it would be; daniel, curled up on his left side, blankets tangled around his legs. he’s knocked out cold, mouth slightly open, and just as jihoon said, snoring obnoxiously. all is right. 

feeling jihoon squeeze his hand slightly, he reaches to close daniel’s door and sighs deeply. he hates that he even had to _check_ if daniel was okay. he should be stronger than that. 

as if he said that out loud, jihoon interrupts woojin’s train of thought with a _“we all need reassurance sometimes,”_ and drags him back to his room. at least jihoon isn’t making him sleep alone now (not that he would but- woojin worries sometimes). 

settling back down to sleep, wrapped up in jihoon’s arms, woojin suddenly feels very grateful to have a best friend like jihoon. he doesn’t know if anyone else would do all this for him, especially at 5 in the morning. part of him feels guilty, but most of him feels eternally grateful. 

as he’s drifting off, he has one thought: he’s glad he met jihoon, even if it was in the most fucked of circumstances.

~  
_july 17, 2015 ; 11:24 pm_

woojin _hated_ going to the strip club. he knows its apart of the business, knows this is sungwoon’s pride and joy, but it never ceased to make his skin crawl. 

don’t get him wrong. he respects everyone there- a hell of a lot more than he respects most people, and is even friends with a few of the dancers. it's the _customers_ that make woojin feel sick to his stomach, that make him want to jump out of his own skin. 

woojin never thought he’d have to resort to _punching_ a customer, until he meets park jihoon. 

park jihoon- or as woojin knows him, ji. only sungwoon and jisung know all the dancer’s real names, for safety sake or something. now woojin- woojin has never particularly felt a strong _urge_ to be friends with any of the dancers, rather friendship just falls into his lap- almost literally. all the girls are nice, and sit in his lap to play with his hair when he comes by (he ignores the crawling feeling in his gut and gives them megawatt smiles. everything is fine). 

ji, though, rarely even _looks_ at woojin when he comes by. for some reason that has something in woojin’s chest feeling uncomfortable- longing maybe? he’s never needed to _want_ friends before but he- he wants to be friends with the boy. like, real friends, not just the relationships he has with other people here. 

he doesn’t know where these feelings are coming from. 

it’s a typical night when woojin stops by the strip club, on a mission to drop off something for sungwoon and then bounce. he _really_ wasn’t planning on staying long, not wanting to get caught up in hanging out with the girls and getting them yelled at for not working (he always felt bad after that happened, slipping them any cash he had on hand afterwards). 

he’s not planning on staying, until he hears a muffled _“get off me!”_ from one of the private rooms and freezes. that did _not_ sound good. 

now woojin, woojin thought of himself as a good person, even if sometimes he did bad things for money. so naturally, he moved towards the source of the sound. 

what he sees has his blood boiling almost immediately. 

there’s a guy, pinning ji down, saying _something_ to him. woojin doesn’t know _all_ of the club’s rules, but he sure knows this isn’t allowed. so, woojin does what he does best: he grabs the guy and body slams him. he wasn’t the brute force guy for _nothing_. 

the commotion must’ve alerted sungwoon, because woojin can hear him vaguely yelling in the background, whether it’s at him or the guy he’s not really sure. it’s only when he's getting dragged away by sungwoon himself that woojin realizes he _maybe_ went a little overboard. just a little. 

the guy’s face is bloody, and he honestly looks _awful_ , but woojin can’t find it in himself to care. not really, anyway. it’s not exactly like he had sympathy for creepy men who didn’t know boundaries. it’s the look on ji’s face that has woojin shrinking, suddenly feeling like a little kid who got scolded by a teacher. he looks _pissed_. 

so maybe woojin should’ve said something before just assuming there was a problem. maybe. but it was _ji_ and woojin felt weirdly protective over him even if he didn’t have a right to, and _goddamnit_ he just wanted to be _friends_. 

he apologizes profusely, bowing the whole way through them, just hoping ji will say _anything_. but of course he doesn’t, because ji doesn’t _care_ about woojin, or his feelings, or anything to really do with him. woojin was probably just a fly on the wall no matter how many times he stopped by. or so he thought. 

woojin almost cries when he hears the soft _’thank you’_ much later, after woojin’s done explaining what happened to sungwoon, after he’s done dropping off what he even went to the club for in the first place, after he’s done getting swarmed by the girls who tell him he looked _so cool_ beating that guy up. 

“like, i could’ve taken him just fine but, thank you,” ji adds, finally looking up at woojin. 

“it’s- it’s really no big deal,” woojin says sheepishly, feeling his face heat up. he ignores it, hoping ji does too. “i just- i thought there was like a real problem so i just kinda…” he trails off, both of them knowing what came next. 

“yeah well,” ji says, smiling softly. woojin was- well, he was awkward, and kind of a mess, but he was growing on ji. just a little. “my real name’s jihoon, by the way. i figured you deserve to know it now that you’ve, saved me or whatever.” 

“oh,” woojin says dumbly, just staring at ji. _jihoon_. jihoon. it was a nice name. “i- i’m woojin? yeah. woojin,” he stutters out, feeling like an idiot the second the words leave his mouth. of _course_ he’s woojin. everyone knows him. 

“i know,” jihoon says, snorting. “god, you really are as awkward as everyone says. i mean- giving other dancers money because you feel bad about _them_ wasting _your_ time? amazing.”

“hey! they’re not wasting my time,” woojin says, pouting. was he really that awkward? “i just feel bad they’re spending time with me when they could be working.”

at this, jihoon snorts. “i’m sure no one _minds_ spending time with you, woojin. you’re like- you’re refreshing after everyone that comes in here just to pay us. you seem to actually… care about people here,” he replies slowly, like he’s carefully hand picking the words he wants to say. “it’s just a nice change.”

“oh,” woojin says again, like it’s the only word he knows. he wasn’t expecting to hear something like, well, _that_ today, especially from jihoon. it feels good to be talking to him, to finally be on the way to friendship like woojin’s been so desperately wanting. 

woojin’s ineloquent response has jihoon laughing, and woojin decides it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. 

he leaves the club that night with one thought on his mind: he wants to make jihoon laugh more. 

~  
_january 26, 2016 ; 8:02 am_

woojin is awoken by a large _bang_! and the sound of rushed apologies. the voice sounds vaguely familiar but woojin can’t quite place it in his ruffled sleepy state. sighing and stumbling out of bed, woojin makes his way to the source of the sound. 

what he sees has him _extremely_ confused. 

“jihoonie?” woojin mumbles, voice still rough from sleep. rubbing his eye to try and at least clear his vision, he sees a suitcase. a very big suitcase. a suitcase and three boxes. “what’s that?”

“my stuff,” jihoon says matter of factly, rolling his suitcase back and forth, back and forth on the wood floor. he seems… nervous?

“well… yeah,” woojin replies, still staring at jihoon’s suitcase. with a jaw cracking yawn, he says, “by why is it here? now? at 8am on a tuesday? why are _you_ here at 8am on a tuesday?”

“because i’m moving in?” jihoon says, tilting his head slightly in confusion. “did no one… tell you?”

“no,” woojin responds, pouting slightly. why didn’t anyone tell him jihoon was moving in? why didn’t _jihoon_ tell him? “um. do you know which room is yours?”

pausing to look around the penthouse for a minute, jihoon shakes his head and looks back to woojin. “absolutely no clue,” he says. 

“uh, i’ll just- i’ll go ask someone more qualified than me,” woojin says, effectively making jihoon snort. more _qualified_ to pick a room for someone? even after all these months woojin was _still_ awkward around jihoon. it was slightly... endearing. 

after woojin receives a _“pick any fuckin room i don’t give a shit,”_ from a half awake sungwoon, woojin walks back to the front door area and ushers jihoon to the empty room next to his. he tells himself it’s the only room suitable for jihoon, but deep down woojin just wants him close. 

it’s natural to want your friends close, right?

that’s what woojin tells himself as he’s helping jihoon unpack, anyway. there’s more stuff than woojin thought, jihoon seemingly having packed an entire house in four containers. he yawns every few minutes, and hopes jihoon doesn’t notice. he really _doesn’t_ mind helping, it's just- he didn’t get much sleep last night. 

it’s when jihoon gently shakes him awake from where he fell asleep sitting up, that he realizes he should probably go back to bed. 

“are you alright?” jihoon says softly, hand still resting on woojin’s shoulder. he’s warm, woojin notes. he likes it. 

“‘m fine,” woojin says, letting out another yawn. “jus didn’t sleep much.”

“didn’t sleep much in how _long_ , woojin?” jihoon replies, knowing woojin’s history with sleep. jihoon was used to seeing a woojin with bags under his eyes, looking dead to the world while he was wide awake. 

“dunno, like four days maybe,” woojin says, moving to rest his head in the crook of jihoon’s neck. he’ll blame it on the no sleep later, when he inevitably gets embarrassed. 

sighing softly, jihoon runs his fingers through woojin’s hair. they were _friends_ , jihoon cared about him too much to watch woojin ruin himself from the sidelines. 

“c’mon,” jihoon practically whispers, shaking woojin again and moving to stand up. unpacking could wait, jihoon needed woojin to sleep _now_. 

just going through the motions of getting up and walking, woojin follows jihoon to his bed. he’s vaguely confused why this is happening, but is too sleepy to really care. 

laying down when jihoon pushes him gently, woojin gets comfortable and closes his eyes. it’s when jihoon joins him that woojin opens his eyes again, shock evident on his face. 

“is this okay?” jihoon says softly, draping an arm around woojin’s waist. at the answering hum from woojin, jihoon moves closer and uses his other hand to play with woojin’s hair. he always seemed to like it when the girls did it before, so jihoon takes a chance. 

it’s like he can physically _see_ all the stress leave woojin’s body, him practically melting into the mattress. 

“had a nightmare again,” is all woojin says, practically whispering. he’s definitely out of it, somewhere in the middle of being awake and asleep. 

“oh honey,” jihoon says, suddenly feeling protective. suddenly woojin not sleeping makes _sense_. jihoon hates that it does. “don’t worry, i’m here now,” he whispers, rubbing soft circles into woojin’s back. 

right before he falls asleep, woojin thinks one thing: the butterflies in his stomach feel kinda nice, even if he doesn’t know why they’re there. 

~  
_october 13, 2017 ; 4:37 pm_

woojin is sweating. he’s sweating through his shirt, everything sticking uncomfortably to him. he's hiding out in an alley, waiting for the shooting around him to stop. 

four seconds later, there's a searing pain in his shoulder, and loud shouting over his comm. he doesn’t know what just happened, but he picks up his gun to shoot anyway, and successfully nails someone in the thigh. 

it’s only when he hears the _‘woojin, woojin what was that?’_ in his in ear from jihoon that he really _processes_ what just went on. 

when he does, he screams. 

the pain in his shoulder is starting to get unbearable, blood trickling out of the wound and soaking his shirt. trying to stand up to no avail, woojin sits back down heavily and groans. 

“think i got shot,” woojin responds, hand shaking as he tries to readjust his comm. he feels lightheaded. 

“what the fuck do you mean, you _think?_ ” he hears seongwu yell, voice staticky. woojin leans his head back against the brick and closes his eyes. 

“i mean, i think i got fucking shot in the shoulder seongwu, and i’d appreciate some help,” woojin snaps weakly, moving to push a hand over the wound. if he could just get it to stop _bleeding._

“i’m coming now, don’t move,” he hears _someone_ say, he can’t distinguish who, before promptly passing out. 

it’s later, much much later, when woojin wakes up. he’s not in his own bed, but rather jisung’s, the biggest of them all. moving to roll over, he groans when he remembers what happened. everything felt _weird_. 

“morning sunshine,” he hears someone say from across the room, nearly jumping out of his skin in the process. 

it’s jihoon.

“wha time is it,” woojin mumbles sleepily, shoving his face into the pillow. he feels drunk. at least his shoulder doesn’t hurt anymore. 

“it’s almost 8,” jihoon says, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and run his fingers through woojin’s hair. he smiles at the happy sigh woojin lets out. 

“why doesn’t my arm hurt anymore,” woojin says, face still shoved in the pillow. he thinks he's slurring his words but he can't tell. 

“morphine,” jihoon says simply. 

“oh,” is all woojin replies, feeling himself get sleepy again. “‘m gonna sleep more,” he decides. 

“go ahead,” jihoon responds softly, not moving from where he’s sitting. he hasn’t left woojin’s side since they found him passed out in the alley, hasn’t moved from jisung’s chair since they fixed him up and brought him into this room, hasn’t left to do _anything_. he was worried sick, even if he knew woojin would end up fine. 

“kay,” woojin slurs out, already on his way to falling asleep. it was amazing what a hand in his hair could do. 

woojin thinks about a lot, but before he falls asleep he thinks one thing: jihoon is a really good person. he might love him. 

~  
_september 12, 2016 ; 6:34 pm_

woojin knows jihoon doesn’t get involved in gang stuff. he’s stopped dancing by now, the boy now helping sungwoon manage everything at the club. he’s good at what he does, the first hand experience helping him overall. 

it’s when jihoon wants a gun that woojin freaks out a little. 

now guanlin, guanlin would give a gun to anyone if they asked politely. he knew all the ins and outs of them, knew which to give who and when. he was an _expert_. 

this didn’t make woojin feel better. 

and it's not that he didn’t trust jihoon (or guanlin)- no. it's that the thought of jihoon holding something so deadly had an emotion wrapping around his heart and squeezing, his throat closing. 

he doesn’t know why. 

in the end, jihoon gets the gun and woojin has to train him on how to use it. the panic never ceases, not even when jihoon is consistently getting headshots upon headshots. he’s _good_ and woojin is terrified. 

he doesn’t talk to jihoon for three days after their session, spending time holed up in his room instead of doing his actual _job_. he wonders if anyone notices. 

and notice they do. after day three he’s essentially _dragged_ out of his room by his ear like a little kid, jisung being fed up with it all. thankfully jihoon isn’t in the living room when he’s brought out, but everyone else is. 

“what the fuck is going on,” jisung says, pushing him onto the nearest chair and commanding him to sit. at the answering shrug woojin gives him, jisung huffs. “i’m being serious. talk to us.”

“it’s just- the gun, i don’t think it's… i just dont think it’s a good idea,” woojin says, stumbling over his words. he feels anxious. 

“why? you said he was doing fantastic, better than any first timer you’ve seen,” daehwi pipes up, squished in between jinyoung and guanlin. 

“i dunno it's just-“

“you don’t trust him,” daniel says, shifting where he’s sitting on the armrest of the couch. “you trust him but you don't _trust_ him.”

“no! i do! i just don’t- i don’t know,” woojin says, starting to get frustrated. why couldn’t he _explain_ how he felt?

letting out a sigh, jisung stands up and shoos everyone else away. sitting on the coffee table directly in front of woojin, he tilts his head up so woojin is looking directly at him. 

“be honest,” jisung starts, looking serious. “do you just wanna be the one to protect him?”

this has woojin at a loss, mind going blank but racing at the same time. he’s never thought of it like that, not at all, and now he feels… lost?

“i-i don’t know,” woojin answers honestly, wide eyed and looking panicked. he really wasn't sure. 

“think about it. and _please_ stop hiding in your room. he misses you,” jisung says before getting up, walking off to do whatever he had to sort out for the rest of the day. 

woojin sits in the living room for a long time after that. he has a thought: _does_ he want to be the only one to protect jihoon?

~  
_december 31, 2017 ; 11:57 pm_

woojin distinctly does not think about his problems. he sees no use in it, no matter how much everyone around him thinks he _needs_ to in order to get rid of the nightmares. 

he just doesn’t see the point. 

unfortunately, this also transfers over into thinking about his _emotions_. ask him if he’s happy he’ll say _‘sure,’_ and ask him if he’s sad he’ll say _‘maybe not,’_ and that’s that. 

woojin hasn’t even _touched_ on romantic feelings. he finds those the most useless of all. 

that’s why when the mistletoe stays up long after christmas is over, long after everyone in the house has been kissed time and time again, woojin does everything in his power to stay _out_ of it. he just doesn’t want anything to do with kissing, he tells himself. that's it. 

he ignores whatever the burning feeling in his gut is when he sees jihoon plant a kiss on seongwu’s cheek for the third time that day. 

it’s nearing closer to midnight, half of them significantly tipsy by now, when daniel poses a question. _who’s kissing who when the ball drops?_

“i mean, we can't exactly say fuck tradition, that's not fun,” daniel says, cheeks rosy from whatever he was drinking previously. “but we also can’t exactly plan to kiss the same people, that won’t work.”

“niel what the fuck,” sungwoon says from where he's laying on the floor, staring at the ceiling. “we’re not kissing each other.”

“but tradition,” daniel says with a pout, knowing anyone with a conscience would listen to him _that_ way. 

all at once there's a chorus of _“i call…!”_ ’s that happens, and woojin sits there dumbly. he really didn’t want to do this. 

it’s when jihoon plops down next to him, big smile on his face, that he realizes he’s fucked. of _course_ jihoon would fight for him. he’d been whining all week about not being able to kiss woojin _once_ under the mistletoe, the other boy too good at dodging everything to do with it. 

_2 minutes to go._

this is when jihoon sits himself on woojin’s lap, wrapping his arms around his neck. this has woojin tensing slightly, alcohol muddled brain not really positive what was going on. 

“uh,” woojin provides dumbly, staring at where jihoon’s thighs are resting on his. jihoon is _warm_. 

“just wrap your arms around my waist, idiot,” jihoon says, rolling his eyes. “it’s more comfortable like that.”

so woojin does what jihoon says, like always. 

_1 minute to go._

“are you _nervous_ , park woojin?” jihoon says, face leaning closer to woojin’s own. he’s close enough now that woojin has to go slightly cross-eyed to look at him. 

“n-no,” woojin says, not knowing where the stutter came from. he _wasn’t_ nervous. “why would i be nervous?”

at the answering shrug and mischievous look from jihoon, woojin suddenly _did_ feel nervous. he didn’t like that look at all. 

_30 seconds to go._

“can you two _please_ get a room?” he hears someone say to the left of him. he knows it’s directed at him and jihoon, it _has_ to be with the way they’re sitting, with the way jihoon still hasn’t moved his face from so close to woojin’s. 

“shut the fuck up,” jihoon fires back, mouth stretching into a smile at the dumb look woojin gives him. woojin can feel his ears start to heat up and he wants this to be over _now, please._

he adjusts his hands on jihoon’s waist and tries not to be too obvious about the deep breath he takes. 

_10._

woojin physically startles when the room choruses the first number of the night. jihoon’s smile gets wider. 

_9._

woojin takes another deep breath. it's fine, this is just jihoon. 

_8._

why is he so nervous? it’s probably because of the look jihoon gave him. yeah, that’s it. 

_7._

woojin feels more drunk than he did a minute ago. is that even _possible_?

_6._

jihoon leans closer.

_5._

“please kiss my cheek,” woojin practically whispers, knowing jihoon won’t listen. 

_4._

“absolutely not, woojinnie,” jihoon responds with that _smile_ again. woojin figured as much. 

_3._

jihoon leans closer. woojin leans back on impulse. 

_2._

woojin takes a second to stare at jihoon. he looks kinda beautiful, if woojin had to say. 

_1._

jihoon’s giving him this tender look. it somehow makes woojin _more_ nervous. 

_0._

jihoon leans in for the final time, lips brushing gently against woojin’s own. the kiss is over in under a second, and woojin lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“happy new years, park woojin,” jihoon says, face still extremely close to woojin’s own. woojin feels dizzy. 

“h-happy new years?” woojin responds, voice cracking. 

this has jihoon laughing loudly, head thrown back, arms still around woojin’s neck.

it’s while jihoon is laughing woojin has a thought: he could get used to seeing jihoon like this. 

~  
_february 14, 2018 ; 10:54 am_

woojin is significantly fucked. it’s valentine's day and woojin is significantly _fucked_. 

it’s not like he woke up this morning and realized he was in love with his best friend. of course not. that would be super cliche and awful. 

but of course it’s what happened. 

he had another bad night, another night of jisung pushing him into jihoon’s room to hopefully get some sleep. woojin was angry for some reason, feeling like no one really _cares_ , feeling like everyone just pushed him off to jihoon whenever there was a problem as if he was a little _kid_. 

he knew it was the no sleep talking, knew a rational well rested woojin wouldn’t get mad at his members, so he got comfortable next to jihoon and went to bed. 

and he was right, because when he woke up he was in a better mood than he had been in weeks, and everything was _fine_. 

or, everything _was_ fine until woojin rolled over, looked at a sleeping jihoon, thought _‘he’s really pretty,’_ and subsequently panicked. _where_ did that thought come from? it couldn’t be his _own_ thought, could it?

do people have thoughts like that for their best friends all the time? was this normal?

did he _like_ jihoon? in a… romantic way?

but that was preposterous. jihoon was his best friend. his really good pal. his super great friend who sometimes made him extremely nervous, made his hands sweat, made his heart race and his throat dry. that was all normal though, right?

even woojin, in his panicked brain, knew that wasn’t normal. 

so of course he did the only thing he could think of. he got out of bed (as quietly as possible so as not to disturb jihoon), made his way upstairs to jisung’s room, laid down on jisung’s couch, and stayed there. 

stayed there for 12 hours without saying a word. 

he laid there, and he thought and thought and _thought_ , over and over about him and jihoon. _him and jihoon._

he thought about every interaction, all the way since the strip club (who wants to be friends with someone _that bad, woojin)_ , about all the times jihoon was maybe just a little _more_ friendly than anyone else was with him. 

woojin didn’t even know he liked _guys._

he figures it makes sense though, liking guys. he never really was all that comfortable around girls who he knew were interested in him, always had this weird anxious feeling in his gut if they tried anything, always this sense of _run run run._

it’s the liking _jihoon_ he can’t get over. 

daehwi eventually finds him lying there around 3, long after woojin’s been over and over and _over_ the possibility of liking jihoon, after he thinks he's starting to accept it, after he decides to not tell jihoon at all. 

“what’re you doing in here… alone?” daehwi asks, leaning over woojin who’s still blankly looking up at the ceiling. 

woojin doesn’t answer. 

“hyung?” daehwi tries again, poking woojin’s arm. he’d be convinced woojin was dead if he couldn't see him breathing. 

woojin still doesn’t answer. 

“yah park woojin,” daehwi tries, figuring some good ol’ disrespect would snap woojin out of it. 

it doesn’t work. 

daehwi takes a deep breath, gets as far as yelling a ‘ _ji-‘_ , when woojin grabs his wrist and shuts him up immediately. 

“do not,” woojin says, still not looking at daehwi. “please do not.”

it’s then when everything clicks. 

“holy shit. you’ve figured it out finally,” daehwi says, feeling giddy. “you’ve really figured it out.”

“figured it out- _finally?_ really daehwi?” woojin says, turning his head so he can properly look up at the younger boy. there's a disapproving scowl on his face but daehwi can’t find it in him to care. 

woojin _finally_ stopped being dense. 

“hold on i have to go get my money from everyone,” daehwi says, practically bouncing up and down with how happy he felt. 

“money- what the fuck? did you _bet_ on me?” woojin says incredulously, feeling like he was going to start screaming. 

“yep! on when you’d figure it out and also when you confess! please confess today i need double the cash,” daehwi says, putting on his best smile. woojin groans. 

“not a chance. no way in hell will i _ever_ bring it up,” woojin replies, dropping daehwi’s wrist and crossing his arms over his chest. 

daehwi tries -to no avail- to get woojin to confess, and eventually gives up. he leaves woojin there, on the couch where he found him, presumably to go get his money. 

and get his money daehwi does, because in 15 seconds flat everyone is running up the stairs to see woojin, bombarding him with questions. thank _god_ jihoon is out doing something else for sungwoon, because woojin would honestly die if he was there. 

“can you all just… _fuck off?_ ” woojin groans, arm covering his eyes. “i’m going _through something_ ” he adds, whining slightly. 

he gets a smack from sungwoon for being disrespectful, but then a pat from minhyun for finally figuring it out. he wants to curl up in a ball and disappear. they actually leave him alone after that, treating him more like he was going through some teenage angst rather than him figuring out he had a crush on his best _fucking friend_. 

woojin was so extremely screwed. 

it’s not until later, much later when jisung should’ve probably went to bed by now and kicked woojin out, that jihoon comes to find him. he’s in comfy clothes, looking more domestic than woojin’s ever seen him. or maybe, just maybe, jihoon _always_ looks like this when he’s home and woojin is just noticing now. 

god he really was a dense piece of shit. 

“where’s jisung,” is the first thing woojin decides to ask, still staring at the ceiling. he thinks he’s memorized every crack and crevice and stain by now. 

“sleeping with daniel hyung,” jihoon replies softly, standing in the doorway. “you kinda kicked him out of his own room,” he adds softly. 

at this, woojin hums, feeling slightly bad but not really. those hyungs always had a thing for each other anyway, jisung would survive a night with daniel. 

“why’re you awake,” woojin asks, head turning slightly so he can look at jihoon. he’s not looking at his eyes, he can’t yet, but he’s looking at _him_. it’s progress. 

“because you are,” jihoon says matter of factly, moving to step into the room and take a seat at the edge of jisung’s bed. “no one really thinks you’ll ever leave this room,” he continues, like woojin wants to know. woojin wants to know anything jihoon’ll tell him. 

“i don’t think i will,” woojin responds honestly, feeling like he’s melded into the couch at this point. “i’ll just set up shop here. fight the bad guys from the couch.”

this has jihoon giggling, and butterflies erupting in woojin’s stomach. he wishes jihoon would laugh like that all the time. 

“now why are you _really_ in here,” jihoon asks, asks like he already knows. maybe he does. jihoon always knows everything going on with woojin anyway. 

“i’m having a crisis,” woojin replies matter of factly, taking a deep breath. he didn’t have to _explain_ his crisis, did he?

“well obviously,” jihoon states, snorting. he lays back on jisung’s bed, in almost an exact mirror of how woojin’s laying on the couch. “crisis about what?”

at this, woojin’s heart speeds up and his face gets hot. he _can’t_ tell jihoon. he really can’t. 

“b- boy stuff,” woojin panics, realizing too late that doesn’t even make _sense_. jihoon is a boy. why wouldn’t he understand? woojin is an idiot. 

jihoon laughs loudly, and woojin feels his face heat up more. his ears are probably bright red by now, honestly. 

“what kinda boy stuff, woojinnie?” jihoon teases, propping himself up on an elbow so he can get a better look at woojin himself. he giggles again. 

“uh- like, just. just l-love stuff,” woojin blurts out, feeling a strong urge to cover his face. he _really_ didn’t want to do this, but he was doing it to himself. 

“love stuff? interesting,” jihoon replies, mouth taking on a slight pout. woojin didn’t like that look on him. “love stuff about what? or about… who?”

“uh, haha. well. you see. interesting question you got there,” woojin says, feeling himself start to panic. “that’s - that sure is interesting.”

at this, jihoon hums, like he’s just waiting for woojin to explain himself. woojin, for the third time that day, wants to curl up in a ball and _disappear_. 

“like- it’s not really a big deal,” woojin tries to beg off, but he can’t stop _talking_. “he’s just-“

“he?” jihoon interrupts softly, not wanting to make woojin panic more. it was just… interesting. 

“yeah,” woojin says, swallowing thickly. okay, so he basically just came out to jihoon. that was fine. that was great.

“go on, then,” jihoon pushes slightly. 

“he’s just- he’s super great, y’know? he’s always there for me ‘n shit… he’s just, everything you could want in a person, i guess,” woojin says, feeling his heart rate spike up. so he was doing this. _okay_. 

“yeah,” jihoon mumbles, biting his lip. _yeah_. 

“and he’s got this great fuckin laugh, like the best thing i've ever heard, i swear,” woojin says, feeling himself start to tear up. _why was he crying?_ “and his smile, god jihoon, best thing in the world.”

“woojin,” jihoon says softly, like he wants woojin to stop. or maybe not stop at all, maybe jihoon wants him to keep going. 

woojin takes a minute to think over his options. say what he wants to next and blow his cover, let jihoon know it's _him_ he’s talking about, or keep quiet, let the conversation die, and move on. 

but he can’t do that. he’s come too far already. 

“and like, like he’s my best fuckin friend,” woojin says sniffling, moving a hand up to wipe one of his eyes. “and it sucks sometimes, it really sucks, because while i might’ve figured this out _today_ , i've had these feelings _forever_.

“woojin,” jihoon tries again, more firmly this time. “woojin, look at me.”

“i can’t,” woojin practically whispers, feeling the reality of the situation finally hit him. he just told his best friend he was in love with him. typical wednesday things. 

“you can,” jihoon stresses, fully sitting back up now. 

at that woojin _does_ look at jihoon, head turning slightly to look directly at him. he feels nauseous with how fast his heart is beating. 

“who do you like, woojin,” jihoon says, like he needs the confirmation it’s really _him_. 

“i-“ woojin starts, feeling all the words die in his throat. “don't make me do this, jihoon,” he says, quietly, pleading almost. 

“just say it, woojin,” 

“you,” woojin finally spits out, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “it’s always been you.”

jihoon is quiet for a long time after that, effectively making woojin’s anxiety spike. why couldn’t he just- say something?

“okay,” is all jihoon has to say, all he responds with. _okay_. it echoes around woojin’s head. 

“okay?” woojin parrots back, feeling dizzy. 

“i mean, i knew already,” jihoon says, biting his lip. “or, i had a suspicion. i just needed you to confirm it. or, figure it out i guess.”

“oh,” is what woojin says back, feeling dumb. of _course_ jihoon would’ve known. 

“stand up,” jihoon says after a minute of silence, standing up himself. 

“why?” woojin asks, sitting up regardless. 

“because i want to kiss you and i’m not bending down,” jihoon responds bluntly, face morphed into something amused. 

“oh,” woojin says dumbly, standing up. he’s nervous. they’ve kissed before but he’s _nervous_. 

jihoon moves closer and woojin fights the urge to move back. he _wants_ this, even if he feels like he's gonna jump out of his skin. 

it’s when jihoon is a millimeter away that woojin asks, _“wait, you like me too, right?”_ and promptly gets a smack to the back of his head. 

“idiot,” is all jihoon says before kissing him. 

standing there, lips pressed to jihoon’s own, woojin has several thoughts: while jihoon might be stubborn and insufferable sometimes, it was all worth it for everything _else_ jihoon was. he was funny and sweet and caring, and didn’t _deserve_ to be in this world. woojin _loved_ with him.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading! :D
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